


Five Things

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [66]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, karedevil - Freeform, mentions of Foggy and the Defenders and Trish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: Tumblr prompt: five things that make you happy





	Five Things

_Truth_

Of course she worries. And of course she has one eye on the clock and one on the news every hour that he is out with his mask on. That’s a given. Even Matt stopped telling her not to worry. He just kisses her and promises to be back.

And he was true to his word, mostly. Sometimes it took him a while. Sometimes she would go to sleep and wake up and there would be no sign of him. Sometimes she would wait up for him until the sun was up. Sometimes she would leave for work without knowing where he was.

But, at least, every time, he called. And when he couldn’t, he explained. No half truths, no “I’ll explain later”, no secrets. He didn’t keep anything from her anymore. He told the truth and it made her feel good. It made her feel like she could trust him. Because sometimes she still had doubts. Every time he sighed and spent a few seconds in silence when she asked, she braced herself. But, now, he always set himself and spoke. The truth. No matter how hard it was, how mad it was going to make her, no matter how worried she would be when he showed her the new cuts and the new bruises. Even when it made her cry. He would hold her and kiss her and tell her he’s ok, he would promise to be careful. Sometimes they would fight.

But he would always tell the truth.

And that made her breathe in, let go of the momentary anger, put her hands on his face and kiss him, thanking whatever God he was loyal to for his safety, that he returned to her, bruised and wounded, but he came back.

And Karen would always be grateful for that. And she would make a point to make sure he knew just how grateful she was that he did not lie anymore.

.:.

_Presence_

She sees it all the time. The people at the office complaining about having to attend anniversary dinners with their significant others when there was not enough time, there was too much work, they were tired.

And it’s not that Karen judged them. She understands, sometimes there is so much to do, it can be overwhelming. And she knows, that that honeymoon phase, that made her and Matt want to spend every free minute glued to each other, it was not forever. It was going to phase, eventually.

But, for now, she couldn’t relate too much. For now, she would count down the minutes until she could turn the computer off and leave the office, take the first cab available and drive to his place or run home and wait for him there.

Even when she had to wait for him at the restaurant when they both had energy to go out, when he called apologising, that he was going to be late, but he would be there soon, she would still smile, still roll her shoulders and take another look at the menu, trying to anticipate what he would order.

And when he came in, bending to kiss her and pulling his seat from the other side of the table to sit by her side, his arm around her back, asking about her day, and she could see the fresh bruise under his glasses, or the split skin of his knuckles.

Matt is busier than the average boyfriend. Her career took up a lot of her time, too, but he was a very special kind of lawyer, working both for the people who cannot afford to pay him and for people who can (he has to survive somehow, and New York is not a cheap city to live in), plus his night activities, with people like him, special in their own personal way, fighting, giving their all to protect those who did not ask for their help or knew they needed it. It’s safe to say his schedule is more than full.

So it filled her heart with a feeling it was almost alien, an euphoria, a giddiness and a warmth that spread all over when she saw him running, trying, making an effort, refusing to reschedule on her, when he fell asleep with his head on her lap while she watched that movie that has been on her Netflix list for so long instead of falling asleep in bed, just because he wanted to be with her.

“Hi, sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry”, he would say, placing hurried kisses on her lips, hurrying to change out of his work clothes so they could go out for drinks, for a walk, for food. And she would try not to sigh, and yes, of course she wanted to go out, see the city, enjoy her boyfriend and her time with him.

But sometimes, just the fact that he was still willing to, after a hard day, even when he was limping, even bone tired as he would be, that was enough. So she would stop him from putting a fresh shirt on, hold him, kiss him until he let out that breath that she knew was holding him up.

“We can go out another time”, she would say.

And, of course, stubborn man, Matt Murdock, he would argue.

“No, I’m fine, we should go. We have to eat anyway.”

Karen was stubborn, too.

“Matt. You can barely stand up straight.”

“Karen-”

“No. Don’t even try using your lawyer voice with me, it’s not gonna work.”

He raised his brows.

“My lawyer voice?”

“Yes, your ‘I have a good argument’ voice. It’s not gonna work. You’re tired. And even you, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, have to sleep.” WIth one more kiss to his lips and a hand to his hair, nails massaging his scalp, because she knew it relaxed him. “You’re not _really_ the devil, you know?”

A chuckle, a hand on her back, bringing her closer to him.

“There are some people that swear otherwise.”

Pulling away, she took his shirt from him and hung it back in it’s designated place in his closet and he didn’t need to hug her to his chest to make her smile. Just the fact that he tried, that he was willing to go out again, just to make her happy, just because he knew she wanted to, it was enough.

“The devil couldn’t love me as much as you do.”

He chuckled in her hair and she turned around to face him again, removing his glasses.

“Indian?”

He shook his head.

“I was thinking Italian. Chelsea Market. Cappone’s?”

“Hmm. Yeah. Good idea. Not tonight, though. Tomorrow. Or whenever you’re not half asleep already.”

Holding her by the back of her neck, he kissed her like he wanted to start something, and she let him, for more than a few seconds, enjoying his hands and his body and the noises he was making. When he took a step back towards his bed, though, she resisted.

“You get ready for bed. I’ll bring you your Italian food. Homemade pasta.”

Oh, she loved that smile.  

“My own private chef?”

“That’s right, counselor. And, if you manage to stay awake until after dinner, your own private masseuse, too.”

“Hmm”, he said, suddenly becoming handsy and bolder. “Are you trying to seduce me into submission?”

“Yes”, a bite on his bottom lip, full and red, always so distracting. “And it’s working.”

“It is.”

“Then go do as I said, and I’ll fix your dinner.”

She pushed him into the bed, giggling as he tugged on her wrist, untangling before he could really pull her there with him, walking towards the kitchen to work on the quick pasta she was becoming an expert in preparing.

He didn’t wait for her in bed. Preferred to listen to her moving around in his kitchen, leaning on the counter, asking her to walk him through what she was doing.

Once they were done eating, he promised he would take care of the dishes. “Tomorrow.” Pulling her into bed with him, Matt sighed while she perched on top of him to massage his muscles before going to sleep. It was something she liked to do for him - but it was also an excuse to run her hands all over him and not have that smug grin appear on his face.

On the next day, she heard him refusing a meeting with Jeri Hogarth, that big shot lawyer that Foggy worked with and had ties to Jessica Jones and Danny Rand. Because he had promised her to go out for dinner.

And Karen smiled. Even if dinner was in Chelsea Market, eating Italian subs while standing up, paper bags on the high table next to the window, Karen loved it. Because he was there. And he wanted to be.

.:.

_Joy_

It’s not a new thing, to laugh when she’s with them. Their history started while she shook with fear and uncertainty, and they made their best to keep her safe. Matt and Foggy made themselves her family.

So her heart soars every time she sees them being friends again.

It took a while, after the death of Nelson & Murdock, for them to talk again. But, Foggy working now where he worked and Matt doing what he did, life forced them together eventually. It was painful, it was awkward, it even made her cry once or twice. But, slowly, they started making their way back to normal.

And she loves, she just loves seeing them teasing each other again, laughing together, sometimes working together, trading information, even arguing, when trying to take the other out of harm’s way.

“Ok, on three.”

“On three of after three?”

“On three, Foggy, or I would have said ‘on four’.”

They’re helping her put her new place back together (they all agreed she should move after the walls on her previous place were decorated with bullet holes). Now, as she took plates from boxes and put them on her new kitchen cabinets, she smiled as they tried to bring her couch from downstairs and place it where she wanted it on the living room.

“Left. No, my left”, Foggy was saying. “No, no, wait, wait! Should we maybe turn it? Is this door wide enough?”

“It’s wide enough. Come on, it’s heavy.”

He walked backwards as Foggy walked forwards, moving the couch carefully and turning it like this and like that until it was in.

“Ok”, Foggy said, throwing himself on it after it was on it’s place. “Beer break.”

Matt laughed and poked a finger on Foggy’s belly.

“You need to exercise, man.”

“Fuck off. Go get me a beer, I’m parched.”

Matt walked to the kitchen and stopped to place a kiss on her cheek before opening it.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Nothing. I just love to see you guys like this.”

He smiled and moved to get three bottles from the fridge.

“Me too.”

He pulled her by the hand and they sat on her couch, talking on the otherwise empty apartment, the easy conversations that were the true aspect of their friendship flowing and flowing, until Karen sighed and got up to keep unpacking the kitchen.

“Come on”, Matt said, getting up, too. “Her bed is next.”

Foggy groaned and got up, following Matt out the door.

“We should have called Luke and Jessica”, he mused and Karen smiled at the sound of Matt’s laughter.

This is how it should be.

.:.

_Comfort_

As much as she loves those moments, where she felt her small family getting stronger, she also loved, loved, loved the ones where it was just them.

He’s busy. She’s busy. Ellison likes her stories and says she is a natural, but she has had no real journalistic training. She has a lot to learn. It’s not just writing and publishing, she wishes. There are so many details, political ones, technical ones, graphical ones, ethical ones, not to mention the actually writing process of a story. Seems easy, but it’s not.

So time alone, to sit and relax and enjoy being together, it can be a luxury.

So it makes it that much more meaningful when she can lock the world outside her door and windows, when he climbs the stairs from his roof access and strips the red suit off, or when he closes the front door and undoes the knot of his tie and it’s just them.

Of course she loves it when they’re naked and breathless and there’s no space between them. She loves those times. But, if she had to pick, her favorites would be when he gets home and sits in front of her on the couch, in bed, on a chair, and presses his back to her chest, head resting on one of her shoulders, letting her run her fingers through his hair, and she could feel him breathin deep, in and out, his eyes drifting close.

That he can be comfortable with her, even if it’s such a simple thing, means so much. After he told her about how much effort it was to keep that secret from the world, how he felt like he couldn’t trust anyone, be himself with anyone, it made it that much more important.

She wants his honesty, his respect, but she also wants him to trust her. To be himself around her. She wants to be that for him, a source of comfort, someone he liked to be around.

His presence already let her heart at ease. She wanted hers to be the same for him. And when he leaned on her like that, vulnerable, letting her ease away the weight he carried on his shoulders every day, it felt good. It felt right.

“Hard day?” she asks when he does it one night, pulling her attention from that  book she had been meaning to finish reading a month ago. It has started raining outside, his hair and shirt are a little wet from when he hopped off the cab in front of her building.

“Hmm. No. Not particularly. It was actually kind of boring.”

She’s unbuttoning his shirt because a cold is the last thing he needs and he nuzzles his nose on the side of her neck.

“I missed you, though.”

Karen smiles, because oh, she did, too. Every time the weather is like this, rainy but not cold, she felt the urge to be close to him. Maybe it had something to do with that first kiss. Maybe not. She’s not too eager to find out. Doesn’t matter.

Because she has him. And he has her.

“I love you”, he says, eyes closed, one hand closing around hers when she finishes taking his shirt off him.

“I love you, too”, she says with a kiss on his temple.

She tries to read while he sleeps against her, but soon she is resting her head on the back of the couch, staring out the window, drifting off, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing.

And she wakes a few minutes later when her neck starts hurting, and he gets up and pulls her until they’re both in bed. There, he cuddles against her again, holding her flush against him, and she can feel his heartbeat against her skin.

It’s been awhile since the nightmares kept her up at night.

.:.

_Peace_

There are days, weeks, sometimes months, that she thinks it’s all pointless. Why fight so hard for humanity, when humanity itself can be such an ugly, hateful, hard thing? Why keep uncovering the filth, why expose evil, why put herself through this if they keep coming back? Greed and hate and so much dirt, so much ugliness. Every time she’s done with one, another one comes, bigger, worse. Sometimes she feels like she’s punching a wall, drowning in a sea of wrong.

And she knows he feels it, too. If her work gives her a front seat view of all that is wrong, his - both of them - puts him right in the middle of everything.

Including those who try to twist the good he tries to do. Who call him a criminal and a deviant, dangerous, demon, devil, dangerous. A threat to those he tries to protect, every day, every day, every day.

She gets to his place and she’s tired. Annoyed and irritated. A senator, hurt and angry that she had exposed where his campaign money comes from and where his voters taxes go, had written a long article, full of lies, accusing her of sensationalism, of taking money from his opponent, of trying to bribe him, trying to make her look as corrupt and dirty as he is.

When Matt got there, she was already in bed, having skipped dinner.

Of course he had read it. She could feel it the way he walked, careful and measured. When he opened the bedroom door and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, Karen waited.

And, sure enough, he bent and dropped a kiss on her head, long and lingering, getting up right after to change into his other suit.

“So”, he started, soft and low, but also sure and determined. “What’s the next move?”

She sighed, turning to lie on her back.

“I don’t know yet.”

“We’ll figure it out.” And then he was, shirtless and barefoot, kneeling in bed, supporting his weight on his hands and crawling the distance from her feet to her face to catch her mouth in his. “You want me to teach him a lesson?”

Karen smiled against his mouth, shaking her head and pressing another kiss or two on his lips.

“No. Best not make it obvious Daredevil cares what people say about me, wouldn’t you say?”

“I can send Jessica.”

“God, no. Can you imagine? She already doesn’t like him. Let’s not give her a reason to use that considerable strength of hers on him.”

He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t mind, actually.”

As it turns out, he didn’t have to do anything. Trish called asking her to come over for some wine, snacks and The Bachelorette reruns at her place. She was trying to convince her friend to let her take a rain check when Jessica took the phone.

“Listen, just stop whining and come over. And bring that righteous asshole you call a boyfriend, I need to talk to him. Claire found some pretty interesting shit, I need to run it by him. Ok? Ok. See you soon.”

So, off they went. She did have a few glasses of wine with Trish, listening on tips how to deal with misogynist assholes while Jessica and Matt talked about their vigilante business. And when they decided to go, she was feeling better. A little light headed from Trish’s expensive wine, but better.

“Tell me the truth”, she said, when he had his arm around her in the cab. “Did you call Trish?”

He didn’t answer right away, so she turned her face and looked up at him, the red lenses of his glasses reflecting the street lights as they drove by them. And then that smirk.

“No.”

Rolling her eyes, she smiled and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

She fell asleep around one in the morning, after he stripped her naked and made her forget why she was upset in the first place. She was boneless and the tip of her fingers and toes were tingling when she pulled him to her, insisting he stayed, please, she didn’t feel like sleeping alone tonight, please, please.

He did. She knew he was going to leave after she fell asleep - and she doesn’t really blame him anymore. It’s his nature. She’s done fighting it. -, but he waited, held her tight and did as she asked.

To her surprise, he was still there the next morning, his alarm waking both of them up, and they got ready for work and ate breakfast together and he walked her to the Bulletin’s door.

“Have a nice day”, he said, kissing her lips and stealing one more bite of her bagel before walking towards his own office, and Karen felt like the exact opposite of how she felt the night before.

Not jaded and angry and hopeless, but energized and ready and… supported. She had him in her corner. He had her. They could do this. He was strong in ways she wasn’t and she was strong in ways he wasn’t. And it sounds sappy and teenager and cliché, but oh, if that doesn’t motivate her to go on.

(And if the hostess of Trish Talk made a speech in her defense that day and made her smile, she also had him to thank. Maybe having a vigilante boyfriend is not so bad, if his friends are willing to adopt you as one of their own and defend you with the same fierce will they did him.)

**Author's Note:**

> your words are my fuel


End file.
